


Goodbye, Scarecrow

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Series: Lost City [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2012-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 21:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack spends his last weekend with Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye, Scarecrow

**Author's Note:**

> My take on what should have happened after everybody—except Sam—left Jack's house on that Saturday. Many thanks to Linz and Wendy (the best beta in the world) for all their support and advice. And don't worry, dear reader, there will be a sequel.
> 
> Originally posted May 2004.

GOODBYE, SCARECROW 

Sam began picking up the debris from their impromptu pizza party. The disappointment that had filled her when Daniel and Teal'c had turned up earlier had rapidly faded. Even the enormity of Hammond's reassignment had faded during an afternoon spent in the undemanding presence of her teammates...no, more than that, her family. 

She counted six empty beer bottles lying about the corner of the sofa where Daniel had sat. She smiled to herself, no wonder he had fallen asleep. Hammond had departed soon after his unexpected announcement and the pizzas had finally arrived. The party had lasted until late afternoon, when Teal'c and Jack had half-carried the inebriated and mostly passed out Daniel out to his car, Teal'c assuring them he'd see him safely home. Dumping the bottles in the recycle bin, Sam returned to the clean living room, which left her here--finally alone--with Jack.

She had just finished plumping the sofa pillows when he reappeared from the back of the house. He paused at the entryway, surveying the now tidy room, all evidence of their gathering gone. "Thanks, Carter." He picked up the one beer he'd been nursing all afternoon, taking a swallow. "Wouldn't want to go all vegetable and leave a dirty house."

Sam felt the stark terror that filled her at the thought of what was going to happen to him roar back into life. She had managed to block it out earlier, lulled into a blissful place where all was well and there was nothing more demanding than who was going to get the last piece of pizza.

"Sir," she protested, "must you?"

"Hey, it's just the truth."

"I know," she whispered, "it doesn't mean that I have to like it."

"I can't say I'm all that thrilled either, Carter."

"Then why did you do it?" she blurted out.

He looked vaguely shocked, but answered. "Because there was no one else and Anubis has to be stopped."

"There was me."

"Well see, that would have been completely unacceptable." He stepped further into the room. "I accepted a long time ago that I'm expendable."

"See, that's where you're wrong." Despite her best intentions, her voice broke, "you're not expendable."

"Sam...."

She wiped furiously at her eyes with her fingers. The last thing she wanted to do was dump all over him. And then she was somehow in his arms. She clung to him almost desperately, burying her face in his neck. He smelled like pizza, beer and after-shave. He was warm, his arms strong and comforting around her. Sam indulged herself for long moments, stealing the comfort from him that rightfully she should be giving to him. 

His arms loosened fractionally and she pulled herself together, stepping back. "I should go."

"Stay."

"Sir..." she said, almost wistfully. There was nothing more she wanted than to forget what lay ahead of them, letting the fires of passion and desire fill her instead of fear and dread. But it wouldn't be fair to him...would it?

"We're out of time, Sam." He reached out and gently caressed her cheek and she melted at the tender touch. "This is one regret I don't want."

His eyes were dark with pain and something more...something she couldn't deny. "Whatever you want, Jack."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He hadn't wanted her like this, under these circumstances, coming to him out of some sad mixture of pity and desire. He'd always imagined that one day they would be free of the bonds that restricted their relationship, that they would have all the time in the world instead of thirty-six short hours. How did you fit a lifetime of loving into the time he had left? By making it a time, that while he might forget, she never would. 

She looked uncertain and vulnerable, standing before him; her eyes still pink from her tears. Sadly, Jack knew they wouldn't be the last tears she cried over him. But he couldn't worry now about some nebulous future that probably wouldn't include him; all that mattered was this moment, this time. Taking her hand, Jack led her down the hallway to his bedroom. The late afternoon sun drifted in through the open blinds, gently illuminating the room. He didn't draw the blinds, darkness would descend soon enough.

Her hand slid out of his when he turned to the bed and pulled back the covers, thankful that he'd been hit with an unexpected cleaning frenzy that morning and fresh, clean sheets were now on the bed. When he turned back to her, she was just draping her denim jacket over the back of the chair. She stood, looking doubtfully at him, and Jack found he wanted to reassure her, to somehow wipe the fear and pain off her face. But how could he? When she merely mirrored what she saw in his eyes? 

Jack tried to smile, but couldn't. So instead he reached out, clasping her shoulders and gently running his hands down her arms in a lingering caress, before grasping her hands. He was still bemused by the sight of her in civilian clothing, even though he'd been staring at her all afternoon. The jacket had hidden the slender curve of her throat, her neck, the pale grace and strength of her arms. Oh, he'd been very aware of the soft curve of her breasts under the patterned top she wore, tempting him with visions that had had him shifting restlessly in his chair. Her hands were cool and he could feel a barely detectable tremor. He tightened his grip around those capable hands, surprised at how small and vulnerable they were inside his much larger ones. Exerting gentle pressure, he urged her closer, until their bodies almost touched. Her eyes drifted shut, the hint of an expectant smile barely curving her lips. 

Still holding her hands, Jack leaned closer, nuzzling her hair and rubbing his cheek against hers. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, the clean, fresh scent of her hair mingled with the soft, floral scent of her perfume. Gardenias or something, he mused, the softly feminine fragrance somehow fitting the multi-faceted woman in his arms--warrior, scientist, but ultimately a woman. And now no longer a dream, but a flesh and blood reality in his arms. 

She seemed to melt against him and he released her hands, his arms wrapping around her, fingers delicately caressing her nape. With his arms around her, she relaxed into him even more, her arms slid around him and her head lowered to his shoulder. She was soft and firm against him, all at the same time. Her breasts were soft against his chest, her belly and thighs a firmly muscled contrast, pressing against him...cradling him. He simply held her, absorbing the tender intimacy that was slowly developing in the quiet of his bedroom, an intimacy that would end far too soon. Resolutely pushing the future from his thoughts, Jack threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair and tugged gently.

Her head fell back, cradled in his hand and her eyes slowly opened. Thank god the fear was gone, though echoes of pain still lingered in blue eyes now hazy with desire and a love that nearly took him to his knees. Her lips were slightly parted, her breathing accelerated and he couldn't wait any longer, lowering his mouth to hers. The kiss started out slow and almost tentative. They had kissed before--he had kissed her, he knew the feel of her lips under his, the taste of her on his tongue. Fleeting brushes of lip against lip, once, twice, until she whimpered--a soft sound of protest and desire--now actively seeking his mouth, his kiss.

The growl started low in his chest, a primitive sound rumbling up through his throat until it escaped and uncertainty was replaced with passionate intent. Forgetting that this was all new for them, forgetting that he wanted to make it last, Jack surrendered to the all encompassing need that finally having Sam in his arms had freed. His kiss turned fierce and greedy, seeking to devour her, to capture her and make her his alone. Tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth, he demanded entrance, and with another incoherent sound, she let him in. He groaned, his tongue sliding into her mouth, demanding and then taking what she offered. 

She clung to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He refused to release her mouth, tugging at her blouse with one hand while he held her captive with the other. His searching hand traveled up her spine and she sighed into his mouth when he released the clasp of her bra, his large hand splaying across her back. In erotic imitation, one of her hands worked its way under his shirt, a delicate and determined touch at the small of his back. Her skirt rustled against his jeans as he pressed closer, forcing his thigh against her, seeking to temporarily assuage the need tearing at him. He shuddered, dragging his mouth away from hers with a low moan when she rotated her pelvis against him, the contact merely serving to increase his need. 

Want and desire translated into an urgency that overpowered whatever restraint he still possessed. Shuffling her ever closer to the bed, he forced his hands to be gentle when he pulled her top off over her head, her bra tangled with it. The garments fluttered to the floor, dropped from hands already busy at the waistband of her skirt. His fingers were shaking as he finally fumbled the button free, pulling the zip down. Her backward movement was suddenly stopped and Jack swiftly guided her down onto the bed. Hooking his hands in the waistband of her skirt, he pulled it off as she scooted further onto the bed. Her sandals tumbled to the floor and she lay before him wearing only a mere scrap of white lace.

He stood by the side of the bed and kicked his shoes off, his hands tugging and pulling at his sweater. Her nimble fingers soon joined his, as she knelt before him. Finally getting his T-shirt free, Jack pulled it and the sweater over his head. Sam's hands immediately fastened on his belt, tugging and pulling until it was loose and his jeans were unfastened. She grabbed at the waistband, but Jack grabbed her hands, slowing her down. She smiled in understanding and gently eased his slacks and his boxer-briefs over his almost completely engorged penis. 

His clothing quickly kicked aside, Jack didn't give Sam anytime to look or touch, instead he tumbled her back on the bed, kneeling over her and urging her to move until they were in the middle of the bed. He covered her with his hard body then, coaxing her knees up, so that she could cradle him between her firm thighs. Jack groaned at the exquisite contact, his chest cushioned by her soft breasts, the tight nipples rubbing provocatively against him. Her softer curves molding automatically to his much harder ones. She moaned softly, shifting beneath him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and Jack groaned harshly as his penis, still pressed tightly between them, slid through her damp folds.

With her legs wrapped loosely around him and her hands tugging insistently at shoulders, Jack responded helplessly to the lure of her body and the desire spiraling out of control. The part of his brain that could still think knew she couldn't possibly be ready, though his probing fingers assured him that he wouldn't hurt her too much...

"Jack." Her voice was low and strained; her intent clear when one slim hand snaked down between their bodies and grasped his straining erection. Hesitating, his eyes flew to her face and he was lost completely, the naked longing shining out of her luminous blue eyes sealing his fate-and hers. Her hand tightened around his penis and he groaned, his eyes closing and his head dropping to her shoulder. 

"Jack." Just his name, this time whispered in his ear. "Please..." 

He shuddered, the quiet plea lost in her soft cry when he thrust deep. Her arms and legs tightened reflexively around him, barely giving him room to move as he withdrew slightly and thrust again, seating himself fully in her silky depths. He paused then and simply absorbed the intense sensation of finally being inside her...a fantastic blend of both the physical and psychological. The exquisite pleasure of her tight sheath around him, the subtle vibrations and pulsations as she adjusted to him magnified in a way he couldn't recall ever experiencing before. And then there was the heady mixture of relief and primitive satisfaction that filled him. She was finally his, and at least for what was left of his eternity, would be his. What had transpired before this moment and what would happen in the future held no meaning. It might all be a dream, but it was his dream and it was all he had.

Sliding his arms under her back, Jack cupped her shoulders and started moving powerfully, thrusting heavily into her. He couldn't go slowly and he dimly realized he was being less than careful with her, but the need to possess her outweighed everything else-his ephemeral connection with Sam made into flesh as drove for the ultimate release in her willing body. 

Time and space condensed until the only reality that existed was the woman beneath him, the first tendrils of release already coiling low in his gut. Intent on only one thing now, Jack abandoned any pretense of trying to ensure Sam's pleasure. And she seemed to encourage him, her clutching hands and softly murmured words breaking down his resolve until nothing was left but the raw need that consumed him. It happened too soon and yet not soon enough, his orgasm slamming through him, ripped out of his very soul. He clutched her even more fiercely, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder, muffling the harsh cry that escaped him as he flooded her with his seed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She lay beside him, restless and achy, yet still filled with a bone deep contentment. She felt like she'd been caught up in a whirlpool, the ferocity of his lovemaking leaving her breathless, washed up limply upon the shore. The seeping wetness between her legs was an unexpected and uneasy sensation. She'd always made Pete wear a condom...Sam sighed softly; banishing Pete back to the realm of tried yet failed relationships. It wasn't his fault that she hadn't been able to love him the way she loved the man lying beside her. 

Jack's harsh breathing gradually evened out and Sam turned her head slightly and looked at him. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling steadily and she wondered if he'd gone to sleep. She rolled to her side toward him and reached out, laying a gentle hand on his chest. He tensed beneath her hand and abruptly sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting with his back to her.

Not an outright rejection, but enough of one that it stung. It was too late to try something like that though. She sat up and knelt behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek on his shoulder. He shuddered at the contact, but didn't move away. 

"God, Sam..." he mumbled, his head in his hands. 

"Don't," she murmured, "don't say it." 

He shifted and she sat back on her knees when he turned his head to look at her, his eyes shadowed by guilt and the fading sunlight. She felt relief flood through her when he reached out and stroked her cheek. Closing her eyes, she turned her face into the gentle caress. After a long moment, his hand fell away and she felt the mattress give as he stood up. 

She slowly opened her eyes and watched as he padded across the room, over to the chest of drawers, her eyes helplessly drawn to him. He seemed totally unconcerned with his nudity and she felt the ache inside her that had never been completely satisfied re-emerge. She knew he was incredibly fit, the job demanded it. And she had felt that power and strength totally focused on her, certain parts of her anatomy still aching slighlty from the intensity of his lovemaking. He looked good. She watched hungrily as he bent over and opened a drawer, the muscles in his back and buttocks rippling. He pulled on a pair of gray sweat pants and then rummaged in another drawer, pulling on a faded navy blue T-shirt. Once dressed, he left the room without uttering a word.

Sam sighed heavily. So much for physical intimacy improving their communication. She got out of bed then and walked over to a closed door, cautiously pushing it open-good, the bathroom. Washing up quickly, she went back into the bedroom. The room was dark now and she fumbled for the light on the nightstand. Her skirt and blouse lay discarded on the floor, she really didn't want to put them back on. She spotted Jack's sweater...reaching down she picked it up, the material soft and warm. Holding it to her nose, she inhaled deeply. It smelled like him. She smiled slightly, she probably smelled like him, too. Making the decision quickly, she pulled the sweater on and rolled the sleeves up until her hands were visible. She glanced in the mirror over the dresser; the sweater hung on her, the shoulders drooping down her arms. The sweater ended at just about mid-thigh, her long legs slender and pale. Wearing only his sweater suddenly seemed more intimate than having sex with him did.

Sam shut the lamp off and stepped out into the hallway, listening intently. She could see a faint light at the end of the hall. Following the light she padded through the quiet living room and kitchen, down three steps and into the den. She paused in the doorway, taking in the quiet ambiance of the room--and her lover busy rustling through papers on a desk in a corner. The room was lit with a lamp on Jack's desk, the soft glow fading in the dim recesses of the room. A large TV in a very impressive entertainment center was on with the volume low; a quick glance telling Sam he was watching--or at least listening--to one of the twenty-four hour news networks. 

She felt just as nervous and awkward as when she'd first knocked on his door earlier that day. Except now it was colored with the uncertainty of the change in their relationship. She took a step backward, suddenly wondered if wearing only his sweater had been such a great idea....

He glanced at her then, his eyes flashing and a soft smile flitting briefly over his lips before he spoke. "Hey."

"Hey," she parroted and cringed slightly. So much for her post-coital conversational skills.

"Just going through some papers."

She nodded, taking his comment as an invitation and stepping further into the room. He went back to his rummaging and Sam curled up on the soft, leather sofa, tucking her legs beneath her. "What will happen to your house?"

"Ah," he opened a drawer. "I have a trust set up to keep everything going for one year from the day I'm declared missing...whatever." He looked over his shoulder at her. "Seemed like a good idea after what happened with Daniel."

"And your lawyer didn't think it was odd?"

Jack snorted. "He gets paid no matter what." 

He had a point, she decided. Besides...whatever happened to him wouldn't...couldn't be permanent. She sat quietly and watched him, feeling her earlier uneasiness fade. This was still Jack, her friend and now her lover, she couldn't afford to waste time being unsure and afraid. He finally seemed to finish whatever it was he was doing, the top of the desk now tidy and he turned back toward her. 

"Are you hungry?" he asked, picking up a beer she just now noticed on the coffee table. 

She considered his question while he took a drink. "No, not really." 

"Good," he said, slipping a DVD into the player in the entertainment center. "Because I just got my Season Three box set of The Simpsons."

She smiled when he plopped down beside her, remote in hand. And when he put his arm around her, she nestled against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had fallen asleep during Flaming Moe's. After he'd put the second disc in the player, he'd returned to the sofa and after some nudging from him and limb re-arranging from her, he'd lain down with his head in her lap. It seemed like such a 'couple' thing to do; it filled her with a feeling she could really get used to-the quiet intimacy of shared lives. She could almost push to the back of her mind the circumstances that had brought them to this point and imagine that this was how they always spent their Saturday nights. She continued to stroke his hair, his forehead, his cheek, until the episode ended. 

It was only nine p.m. and she was trying hard not to worry. It seemed early and she couldn't help but wonder if he was already feeling the first affects of the knowledge transfer. Well, no matter the reason for his fatigue, he couldn't spend the night on the sofa.

"Jack," she murmured softly, squeezing his shoulder.

"Mmmm..."he rumbled, shifting a bit and burrowing deeper into her lap, his cheek now resting on her bare thigh.

"Jack." She spoke more forcefully. "Let's go to bed."

He groaned and rolled onto his back, looking up at her with drowsy brown eyes. "Is it over?"

She reached over him and picked up the remote off the coffee table, turning the player and TV off. "Yeah. Come on, time for bed."

He nodded and levered himself up until he sat beside her. She stood, stretching after the prolonged sitting. He just sat there and so she took his hand. "Come on," she said again, tugging gently.

He didn't budge and gripped her hand tighter. "You're staying, right?" It wasn't exactly a plea, but she could see the quiet desperation in his eyes. 

"Of course," she responded immediately. He nodded again and stood, apparently satisfied and they walked hand-in-hand to the bedroom, locking up and shutting off lights along the way.

When they reached his bedroom, Sam sent him off to the bathroom while she straightened out the bed. She picked her skirt and blouse up off the floor, folding them neatly over a chair. She sighed, she'd have to leave his house sometime and she couldn't go dressed only in his sweater. And as comfy as it was, she didn't think she wanted to sleep in it. Shamelessly opening dresser drawers, she finally found a clean white T-shirt, soft and worn with age. Stripping the sweater off, she had just pulled the T-shirt over her head when the bathroom door opened.

"It's all yours," he yawned.

It didn't take her long. Using the facilities, washing her face...finally giving up on the search for a spare toothbrush and using his, still wet and tasting of toothpaste and his kisses. She opened the door, the bathroom light shining a narrow swathe across the bed and floor. He was in the bed already, his sweatpants and T-shirt dropped carelessly on the floor. Shutting off the light, she let her eyes adjust for a few moments before crossing the few feet to the bed. 

Slipping under the covers, she curled up on her side with her back to him, when she felt the mattress give and he pulled her back against him. She shifted, letting him slip his arms around her, his body pressed close. His breath was warm against her neck, his arm heavy across her waist, his legs tangling with hers.

"Goodnight," he muttered low in her ear.

She snuggled deeper into the warm cradle of his body. "Goodnight," she whispered. His arm tightened fractionally and she felt his lips against her neck in a brief kiss. He relaxed against her, then she tried to do the same. 

When she'd come over to his house earlier that day, she'd never imagined she'd be sleeping in his bed, held close in his arms. She'd wanted to talk-she'd been desperate to be with him, not willing to just let him slip away without telling him how she felt. Had she done that? She didn't think so...sure, she'd let him make love to her-a physical expression of her feelings. But she wanted there to be absolutely no doubt in his mind.... His beautiful mind...she didn't even try to stop the silent tears that welled in her eyes. Whether he wanted to hear it or not, she'd tell him tomorrow. All of that unspoken crap may have gotten them by previously--but not now. If this was all the time they would have, she didn't want anymore secrets. She wanted to see his face...to see his eyes when she finally told him she loved him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_He was cold, so very cold. The walls were thick with ice. He touched one and thought maybe that they were made of ice. The sky was inky black above him, no moon or stars, yet he could still see, the ice walls glowing a luminous blue._

_He took a cautious step, but the ground wasn't slippery. The icy blue light of the ice walls beckoned him to take another step...and yet another. He reached an intersection and suddenly realized he was in a maze. The sheer walls had to be at least ten feet tall, he couldn't hope to see over them. Seized with an urgency to reach the center of the maze, he started running, following almost forgotten advice of navigating mazes-keep to the left._

_Odd words and images flitted through his brain as he ran. He wondered how many naquadah reactors they had on hand. The blue glow never changed, the sky remained black and he raced onward. His lungs were burning, his chest heaving, his breath exhaling in smoky clouds as he panted. He skidded around a corner and a long straight path loomed before him. At the very end he could just see the figure of a person, barely visible. He started to run again, disregarding his fatigue and the pain in his side and legs._

_He kept running, but didn't seem to be getting any closer. And it was still cold...so cold. His fingers were going numb...but he could finally see her...the blonde hair, the blue of her eyes, the smile that she only gave to him._

_He kept running, but he was going slower and slower, his legs barely moving. She had seen him and even at this distance he could see her eyes light up and she smiled. He had to reach her...but he could barely move now. His limbs had succumbed to the intense cold and he realized in a bewildered kind of surprise that he was freezing. Struggling to lift his frozen leg, Jack called to her, but no sound came out. He vowed to never give up...he had to get to her...._

Jack fought his way out of the depths of his subconscious, forcing the freezing paralysis of the dream away. Gasping, he forced his eyes open, relief filling him as he recognized the dim outlines of his bedroom. He felt confused and shaken by the images in the dream; and cold. Shit, no wonder he was cold, he finally realized, he'd kicked the covers off. Tugging on the covers, he pulled them up over his bare legs. Moments later he felt the mattress shift and the soft sounds of movement. God...Sam...she was here with him. Rolling to his side, he pulled her into his arms, wrapping himself around her. She murmured again, but didn't wake up and he felt some of the ice in his soul start to melt. 

His internal clock and the first faint twittering of the birds told him it was close to dawn. Twenty-four more hours.... He could feel the life return to his body as she shared her warmth with him; the first stirrings of arousal as his body reacted instinctively to her soft curves. And he needed more...he'd always need more from her. She'd come to bed wearing one of his old T-shirts, the ones he wore under his dress uniform shirts, it was almost as soft as her skin. Jack carefully worked his hand under the T-shirt, his hand moving in a drawn out caress along her hip, her belly...until his hand rested just beneath the swell of her breasts. He flexed his fingers, pressing them into her skin, feeling her ribs, the slow and steady movement of her chest as she breathed. 

Burying his face in her nape, he nuzzled her neck, pressing his lips against her tender skin. His hand moved to cup a breast and he squeezed it gently, brushing his thumb over her velvety nipple. He kissed her nape again, wanting her to waken, yet conversely enjoying the feel of her soft and yielding in his arms. Nuzzling her hair aside, he nipped and then sucked at the tender flesh behind one ear, marking her where he hoped no one would see it. Trailing his lips down her neck, he released her breast and tugged the neckline of her T-shirt down and did the same thing to her shoulder. 

"Jack..." she murmured and rolled to her back. She didn't open her eyes and Jack could tell she was still more asleep than awake. "What are you doing?"

He splayed his hand against her throat and lowered his head, just brushing her lips with his. "Making the most of my time."

"Jack," she whispered, her drowsy voice now tinged with remembrance. Ignoring the sadness evident in that one word, Jack fastened his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. She didn't require much coaxing to open her mouth to his and he settled onto his side next to her, leisurely kissing her. She was warm...and sweet...and willing. Which made Jack all the more determined to make up for his cavalier treatment of her the day before. Not that she had complained, not that she ever would....

Taking his time, Jack explored her mouth, teasing her tongue with soft touches of his, delighting when she whimpered, one of her hands clutching at his hair. He nipped at her bottom lip and drew back slightly. In the early morning light, he could just see the small frown that formed on her face and she opened dazed blue eyes. And then an expression crossed her face that he never thought he'd see on Sam Carter, she actually pouted at him. Those luscious red lips he'd been busily kissing formed a perfect 'O' of pique. The hand in his hair slid to his nape and she exerted gentle pressure, shifting and bending one knee, trying to press closer to him.

He couldn't stop the satisfied smile that her response engendered in him and he let her pull him back down to her, this time taking her mouth in a deeply ravenous kiss. Settling a little more fully onto her, he trailed his hand in a lingering caress across her cotton-covered breasts and belly until he reached the hem of the T-shirt, which had ridden up her thigh when she'd shifted against him. Sliding his hand under the flimsy shirt, he once more cupped one of her breasts. This time she jerked slightly at the first touch of his thumb rubbing her nipple, but then she sighed into his mouth and urged him even closer.

Swirling his tongue one last time against hers, he eased his mouth away from her seeking lips, placing hot, wet kisses along her jaw and then down her throat. Ignoring the T-shirt, he continued to kiss her through the thin fabric and when he reached her breasts, he tugged the shirt taut and fastened his lips on the hard bud pressing against the soft cotton of his shirt. She moaned and arched her back into his touch, apparently not minding the barrier between her breast and his mouth. But Jack soon found that he did. Fastening his teeth gently on the erect nub, he tugged gently before releasing it. She whimpered in protest, her hands tightening in his hair, but he effortlessly pulled free. 

Sitting back on his knees, he shoved the covers back and her long legs kicked free of the confining bedclothes. The air in the room was cool, but Jack wasn't worried, the fire raging in his blood had melted away the ice and would keep them warm. She lay before him, pale and beautiful against the dark blue sheets, and the urgency flooding through him accelerated. He was only mildly surprised that his hands were trembling when he reached for the T-shirt that still kept him from her. Wanting nothing more than to rip it off her, he forced himself to move slowly, his hands skimming along her hips, her waist, and her ribs. She moved sinuously, lifting her shoulders and arms as he pulled the garment off. 

Flinging it to the floor, he sat back and looked at her. Had he actually looked at her last night? He couldn't remember...all he could remember was the terrible urgency that had driven him to take her before she could turn him away or say no. The driving need that had compelled him to finally claim her. He remembered the feel of her body against his and how incredible that was after years of imagining. He knew she wasn't perfect, yet gazing at her now as she lay waiting for him, she seemed the most exquisite woman he had ever seen. Her legs were long and beautiful, deceptively fragile looking in the early morning light. He knew for a fact that they were strong, the power hidden behind her shapely curves. Her legs curved gently into her womanly hips, her waist slender, flaring slightly to her ribcage and the swell of her breasts. Her nipples were hard points, a dusky rose against the creamy smoothness of her breasts. 

Dragging his eyes up to her face, he realized she'd been studying him as well. Jack had no illusions as to what she saw, the warmth and desire in her clear blue eyes somehow belying what he knew to be the truth-he had more scars, both external and internal, than any woman should have to deal with. He knew his future and had accepted his fate; he wasn't so sure anymore if it was fair to Sam to take what she offered, when he had nothing to give in return. He thought he had his sudden doubt well hidden, but some of it must have bled through.

"Don't."

"Sam, I--"

"Don't," she said again, gracefully sitting and framing his face with her hands. He felt naked and exposed under her intense scrutiny-helpless to hide from her anymore.

"I love you." Her voice was firm, her eyes unwavering. "Nothing else matters."

Pain and fierce satisfaction rivaled for dominance inside him with her confession. But she still didn't understand. "Sam, you can't-" She was going to speak again, but he forestalled her by putting a finger on her lips. "It isn't fair to you." He felt her lips curve into a sad smile.

"It isn't fair to either of us," she murmured. "But it isn't going to change how I feel."

He was unconvinced, guilt slowly undermining his desire.

"Don't deny us this...don't deny me this."

Phrased like that, her blue eyes once more shimmering with tears for him, he could deny her nothing. It was if this time with her existed out of normal time and space and he would selfishly take the gift she offered. There was nothing he could say in face of her acceptance of him in spite of his bleak future. His fingers trailed from her lips, across her cheek. Her hands looped around his neck and he cupped the back of her head, pulling her close. Their lips met in a gentle, almost chaste kiss, a tender affirmation of what he'd always known.

Sam's arms tightened and Jack felt her start to move backwards. He followed her down to the bed, bracing himself over her on his elbows. It was an ache deep in his heart that he couldn't give her more...that he couldn't give her what she deserved. He knew the effects of the knowledge transfer had already started, the clock was still counting down and time was running out. Could he just take what she offered? The first time could still be passed off as comfort and pity...but he knew damn well anything more would be deliberate. They'd come too far and he was in too deep. No, he amended with weary resignation; she was in him too deep. 

He finally understood and found himself repeating the words she'd told him the night before. "Whatever you want, Sam."

With nothing to offer her beyond this moment, this day, Jack renewed his sensual assault. He might not be able to express his deeply held feelings with words, but he could communicate this way.

Once more settling his body over hers, he kissed her again. She responded immediately, her mouth opening, her body shifting beneath his to provide the maximum contact. Her strong fingers stroked through his hair, shivers running down his spine when she scratched lightly at his nape.

Jack was sure he could spend eternity just kissing her, dragging his mouth along her jaw, he began kissing a slow trail of kisses down her throat. He nipped lightly at her collarbone, his tongue tracing wetly along the ridge until he reached the hollow of her throat. Shifting so he could touch her more easily, Jack brought a hand to her breast while his mouth continued its journey down her breastbone. He could feel her breathing accelerate, her chest rising and falling beneath his hand, her heart beating rapidly.

His name was a soft sigh on her lips when he fastened his mouth on her breast, latching firmly onto her nipple. Teasing the tight bud with his tongue first, Jack soon gave in and drew her nipple deeply into his mouth. Pressing the sensitive peak firmly to the roof of his mouth, he sucked strongly. She moaned low in her throat, her hands clutching in his hair and her body trembling against him. Biting gently, he released the taut peak, only to hear her moan his name in protest. He nuzzled the rosy, glistening tip, kneading the firm globe gently before transferring his attention to her other breast. She whimpered softly when he finally took her in his mouth.

The cool feel of her fingers on his face, stroking his cheek as he feasted at her breast, the contented sounds she murmured, all told him of her pleasure. The tranquil intimacy and rhythmic movements were strangely soothing. Yet Jack wanted so much for his lover this time. 

Leaving her breast, he began kissing his way down her smooth belly. Her muscles rippled and quivered at his touch. She initially tensed, but then relaxed, when his caressing fingers brushed her silky curls, his hand gliding in a sure caress down the inside of her thigh.

Jack moved to kneel between her legs then, his hands gently urging Sam to open herself for him. Slender legs moved gracefully at his touch, knees raising and flexing. Her hands hovered uncertainly over her exposed secrets. 

"Don't," he murmured roughly. 

Her eyes flew open, as if she had only just realized what she was doing. He held her gaze and her eyes darkened even more. She let her hands drop to her side, her legs relaxing completely.

Pure lust and masculine pride poured through him, as Sam lay vulnerable before him. That she would trust him at this level still managed to somehow shock him. Her trust was a precious gift and he hoped he would be deserving of it. Her pale skin glowed in the early morning light. Her lips and her nipples were glistening a rosy red from his mouth. Her eyes were still open, watching him, waiting for him.

He touched her almost reverently, his fingers grazing her smooth flesh in a caress that ran from ankle to knee. Lightly fondling the sensitive skin at the back of her knees, he smiled tightly when she quivered, her hips moving in subtly in time with touch. Tracing abstract patterns with both hands along her inner thighs, he paused only once, when he settled into a more comfortable position between her widely spread legs. His mouth joined his hands; lips and tongue just barely brushing against silky skin, moving ever closer to his ultimate goal. He paused for a moment, his lips pressed to tender, pale flesh where leg and hip met. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, the sweet, musky scent of her arousal calling to him. She was warm and he could feel her dampness, the area surrounding them a pocket of heat and passion in the cool morning.

"Jack."

He barely recognized his name, her voice was so strained, a mere moan, low and husky with desire. A shudder of undiluted need ran like lightning through his already hyper-aroused body. He groaned in reply, his hands and mouth once more moving. 

“Yes,” she moaned raggedly, when he tentatively touched her tender flesh for the first time.  
Fingers normally quick and deft, now feeling almost awkward and clumsy, stroking...searching. Jack carefully stroked his lover's quivering flesh, muzzling through damp hair and even damper flesh. Her sharp gasp when he isolated her tender bud told him he'd reached his goal. Lightly stroking at first, he teased her, now ignoring the tiny bundle of nerves. She tasted so fresh and new, like the juiciest of fruits to a starving man. And he was starving, starving for love she so freely offered him. When she was moving restlessly beneath his demanding mouth and hands, Jack finally fastened his lips on her clitoris.

He took his time, leisurely sucking and licking, though his body was demanding more--as was hers. Tracing random patterns with his tongue, he caressed her, building the fire within her until she was panting and moving her hips against him. Securing her with one strong arm wrapped around one of her thighs, he continued his relentless assault. Long fingers moved in a deep caress, massaging and stroking in a steady rhythm.

She was getting close, he could tell. Her short, panting gasps and almost frantic movements signaling her impending orgasm. And then she let out a keening cry that was his name, the fingers of one hand clutching frantically at his hair. He held her firmly, moving with her as she bucked against him, her release rippling through her. 

Jack wished he could watch her and vowed that the next time he would see her face, her eyes, when she cascaded into ecstasy. But for now he would be content with hearing her and feeling her orgasm pulse through her. When she finally lay spent beneath his hands and mouth, her gasping breaths leveling out into soft sighs, Jack released her. Easing his fingers out of her and his mouth away, he crawled up her now limp body.

"Sam," he murmured roughly.

Her eyes slowly opened, the look of lazy satisfaction on her face and the light in her blue eyes filled him with fierce pride. He kissed her then, a deeply erotic kiss, letting her taste herself on his mouth,

"Mmmm..." she murmured, looping her arms around his neck and smiling at him.

"Good?" he found himself asking, mildly appalled at his need for reassurance.

"Very," she replied, her eyes sparkling and her voice filled with tender amusement.

"I'm glad," he replied seriously, "because there's more."

"Even better."

He grinned down at her and wrapped his arms around her, rolling onto his back. Sam momentarily sprawled on top of him, a wriggling mass of arms and legs before she squirmed herself up right, straddling his hips. She knelt over him and by the thoughtful look on her face, Jack knew she was cataloging and weighing all her choices. As far as he was concerned, there was really only one option. Him, inside her--now.

She swayed against him, her slick folds rubbing against his painfully engorged penis. He groaned, not sure whether her movement was deliberate or not--and not really caring.

"Sam," he groaned, his hands gliding up her thighs to her hips, urging her closer. When she looked down at him, her smile was sultry and all woman-- a smile Jack had dreamt of during the brief times he'd allowed himself to think of her this way. And then he couldn't think at all when her firm, cool hand grasped his rigid penis.

Her other hand pressed lightly against his chest as she braced herself over him. He steadied her with hands at her waist, his entire body quivering in anticipation while she guided him through her soft folds. It was difficult to concentrate; the exquisite feel of her tender flesh slowing giving way to him was rapidly overwhelming his senses. But he wanted to watch her. The sight of her kneeling over him; his penis sinking into her was incredibly erotic. He forced his eyes up to her face. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lip, a look of intense concentration filling her features. Her eyes suddenly crinkled and she gasped softly as her full weight sunk onto him. God, it felt incredible, the heat and tightness was even more fantastic than he remembered form the night before. 

She shifted; Jack groaned and her eyes flew open. She looked flustered for a moment when she was realized he was watching her. However, the embarrassment faded, leaving only desire and the satisfied look of a woman at the height of her power. Bracing both her hands on his chest then, she leaned down and kissed him, biting and tugging on his lower lip. 

Jack reached for her, but she evaded him, a throaty chuckle escaping when she sat back up. He let his hands rest at her waist again and gave up trying to take control as she started a gentle rocking motion with her hips. The ever-changing pressure on his penis while she moved soon had his hips rocking in synchrony with hers. It was getting harder to keep his focus, his hands tracing restless patterns on her thighs while she moved. And when she once more shifted, bracing her hands on his shoulders, rising and falling on his engorged shaft, Jack gave up and let her carry him away.

The slowly burning fire low in his belly flared out of control when she started gripping his penis with her snug, internal muscles on each upstroke. He wanted her to come again though, so he dragged one hand down her flexing belly, fingers searching through her damp curls. She faltered slighlty while he probed, but once he found his target, she moved with him, pressing her pelvis into his hand. Her movements soon grew even more frantic and Jack was right with her, the need to climax overpowering everything else. His brain dimly registered when Sam groaned, sinking heavily onto him. He gripped her hips with both hands then, holding her down while he thrust upward in a powerful movement. 

Jack's release exploded in an inferno that swept him up in the flames, consuming them both in endless ecstasy. His hips jerked convulsively against her as he emptied himself deep into her willing body. The primal satisfaction making him forget the tenuous hold he had on her. The tremors wracking his body eventually slowed and Sam collapsed in a boneless heap on him. It was all he could do to wrap his arms around her, stroking and murmuring soothingly. It was twice now, he realized, that he'd taken her this way--unprotected. He didn't know if she was using anything--and he knew he should feel guilt or remorse--anything except the wild pleasure that she would risk it all with him. 

*******************

Sam felt Jack slip from under the covers, but she didn't open her eyes. The brightness shining through her eyelids told her it was well into morning. She was loath to get out of bed, their early morning lovemaking had left her pleasantly relaxed--both of them falling back to sleep, bodies entwined. She heard the toilet flush and then the sound of running water and the shower. Rolling onto her back, Sam opened her eyes, staring at the ceiling. She never imagined twenty-four hours earlier that she'd waken in Jack's bed the next morning. 

When she'd impulsively driven to his house, she had only had some nebulous plan to talk, to tell him something of the conflicted emotions churning within her. It was cliched, and it was hard to even think about, but he'd been given a unique gift--in a very weird and demented way. He was terminal and had been given forty-eight hours notice. Twenty-four of which she'd shared with him. 

The shower stopped and she sat up a bit straighter in the bed, her eyes lighting up when he came back into the room. His hair was still wet, a towel slung low around his hips. Using the towel draped around his neck, he rubbed his hair.

"Good morning."

He looked at her from under his towel, smiling. "Good morning." His voice was low and intimate, spending shivers up her spine.

"What do you have planned for today?"

"You mean, what do I have planned for my 'last day'?"

She wasn't surprised his thoughts had taken the same direction as hers. "Actually...yes," she admitted quietly.

His eyes were somber, filled with a kind of sad resignation and she wanted nothing more than to take him into her arms and tell him everything would be okay. But it wouldn't, there wasn't anything she could do to make it better or fix it. They were totally dependent on whatever he could do once the knowledge transfer was complete.

"Well, the first thing I want is pancakes."

She smiled, pancakes did sound good. "And after that?"

He dropped the towel he'd been using on his hair and flashed her a brilliant smile. "And then I want miniature golf."

She actually laughed then, which was probably his intent. She really didn't care what he did--as long as she could do it with him. He started to get dressed, so she sat up and considered her options. She grimaced, she was sticky, her hair was undoubtedly a mess and the only clothing she had was what she'd worn the day before. 

"I need a shower," she announced, standing up and reaching for her panties, pulling them on. She wrinkled her nose. "And a change of clothes."

He had just taken a shirt out of the closet and turned to look at her. She straightened up and looked at him, pleased with the flash of desire in his eyes when he looked at her. 

"I think that can be arranged."

"Good," she muttered, snagging her blouse off the chair where she'd set it the night before and pulling it on. Grabbing her skirt, she finished dressing and less than ten minutes later they were out the door.

***********************

Some thirty minutes later, Jack pulled his truck up in front of Sam's house, parking on the street. He followed her slowly up the walk, slipping his sunglasses into his jacket pocket. Her house looked much the same as he'd last seen it, neat and tidy. Once inside, he shrugged his jacket off, watching idly as she disappeared down a hallway, calling, "Make yourself at home." He thought about making some coffee to kill the time while he waited, but then he thought of something much better.

Unbuttoning his shirt, Jack walked down the hallway where Sam had disappeared, the sound of running water guiding him. He paused in her bedroom, kicking his shoes off, draping his shirt and the rest of his clothes across her neatly made bed. He looked curiously around her bedroom for any lingering signs of her former boyfriend, satisfied when he saw none. He wasn't sure how he felt about her the need to try for some semblance of a normal life. It certainly wasn't like he could offer her anything beyond this weekend. But he would take it from her, hoping that the price she paid wouldn't be too high.

Leaving his uneasy thoughts behind, Jack slipped into her bathroom. The mirror and shower doors were already steamed over, her figure barely visible through the fogged glass. She emitted a startled yelp when he slid the door open, easing into the shower with her. But then she smiled, pushing her wet hair off her face and making room for him. The water beat down on them and Jack stood in front of her, running his hands up and down her ribs. 

She placed soapy hands around his neck, asking archly, "Is this something else on your list of things to do today?"

"Uh huh," he nodded. "This and finally beat Teal'c at mini-golf."

She laughed and he grinned at her. God, she was beautiful, even dripping wet. "Let me help you," he said roughly, his voice thick with desire. Her eyes darkened and she wordlessly handed him the shampoo. 

Squirting a dollop of the creamy shampoo into his hand, Jack proceeded to wash her hair. Massaging and kneading her scalp, her neck muscles, turning them so she stood under the pounding water, rinsing the shampoo off, the suds running off and down her body. Eager to let his hands follow the soapy paths the water took, he grabbed the bath sponge and shower gel next. Pouring a generous amount onto the net sponge, he squeezed it through and began washing Sam. She stood docilely before him while he lightly stroked her with the sponge, leaving suds and bubbles in its wake. He traced her left collarbone, stroking down one arm; repeating the action down her right side. Dragging the sponge down her breastbone, he lightly rubbed each breast until her nipples were rosy, tight peaks. 

Stroking down her belly, he smiled tightly when she swayed towards him, her hands coming to rest lightly on his shoulders. He brushed the soapy sponge down the front of each firm thigh. Sliding his free hand down the back of one thigh, he coaxed her to lift her leg, brushing delicately between her legs before washing down her calf and foot. Doing the same with the other leg, he released her. "Turn around," he rumbled.

She paused for a moment, water dripping down her, sluicing through the suds covering her. Setting the sponge down, he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing gently. She closed her eyes and slowly turned. Jack let his hands trail caressingly across her skin while she turned. When her back was to him, he ran a hand down her arms, grasping her wrists and raising her arms. Lacing his fingers through hers, he raised her arms above her head, placing her hands against the cool tile of the shower stall. Releasing her hands, he was pleased when she kept them where he'd placed them. "Good girl," he crooned in her ear. 

Picking up the bath sponge again, he ran it down one arm and side, before sweeping it in long strokes up and down her back. She arched into his strokes and he soon dropped the sponge and ran his hands down the rippling muscles of her back. She groaned when he pressed his thumbs along each side of her spine, kneading firmly. When he reached her shoulders, he pressed a bit more firmly with one hand, sliding his other arm around her waist and pulling her back towards him. She acquiesced, bending deeper at the waist, still bracing herself against the wall. It was his turn to groan then, when she pressed her water-slicked ass into his groin, wriggling against his erection. He'd only had a vague intention of making love to her again, uncertain at how cooperative his body would be. Evidently one aspect of his life was going to go his way this weekend.

Putting both hands on her hips, he nudged her feet apart with one foot. "Just...like that...yes, Sam," he groaned, his erection sliding between her legs, rubbing against the slick folds. He closed his eyes and rocked his hips against her, enjoying the light friction on his penis and the feel of the water beating down on him.

"Jack," she whimpered, looking over her shoulder at him, her blue eyes pleading. "Please."

He smiled tightly and released his grip on one hip, guiding his rigid flesh through her damp folds, probing until he found his goal. She whimpered again, the sound almost lost in the pounding of the water. She pressed against him, widening her stance and he thrust against her, sliding easily into her willing body.

The feeling of being inside her, sharing this incredible intimacy was still unbelievable and Jack knew he would never get tired of making love to her. The smallest sliver of regret filtered into his consciousness, that he hadn't acted earlier, but he quickly shoved it away. He wasn't going to let anything ruin this day. He established a steady rhythm that soon had Sam moving easily with him, thrusting back against him. He could feel his orgasm building, sooner than he would have liked, but inevitable, given his hunger for her.

Sliding his right hand across her taut belly, through her wet curls, he searched out her clitoris. Always a quick learner, Jack expertly caressed her until she was trembling against him, her soft cries reassuring him of her pleasure. He gripped her hips harder, thrusting heavily while she pulsed around him, letting his release flood through him. He was vaguely aware that she was slipping out of his grasp. Reluctantly pulling out of her, he turned and pulled her into his arms. 

"Sorry," she murmured weakly, wrapping her arms around him, her slim body resting heavily against him.

"You'll feel better after some pancakes," he told her.

She chuckled and slowly pulled out of his embrace. Reaching for the taps, she shut the water off. "Then what are we waiting for?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam prowled Jack's living room restlessly. He'd disappeared to the back of house soon after they'd finished dinner and she was reluctant to disturb him. The kitchen was spotless, the rest of the evening loomed somewhat ominously before her. They'd gone to Mountasia and Jack had insisted they play mini-golf—both courses—until he beat Teal'c. Sam still wasn't sure whether Jack had actually won the last round they'd played or whether Teal'c had finally given up and let him win. It hadn't mattered though—Jack was satisfied. They'd parted company with Daniel and Teal'c then, for which she was thankful. 

It was weird; Daniel had seemed just a little too eager to know how Jack was 'feeling'. He seemed to be looking forward to the change that was even now happening to Jack. It wasn't kind, but he seemed almost jealous and Sam hated herself for it, but she almost wished that it had been Daniel who had looked into the Ancient's device instead of Jack. But then, she acknowledged sadly, she probably wouldn't have spent the last twenty-four hours with him—or finally known the wonder of making love with him.

Deciding it would be better to leave than overstay her welcome, Sam ventured down the hallway toward his bedroom. He wasn't in there, so she peered around the only other door down the hall. Another bedroom, Jack sat on the bed, his back to the door. She knocked and when he didn't respond, she walked cautiously into the room. He was looking at something, a photo album, she realized when she got closer. Several more were scattered on the floor at his feet. 

"Hey," she said quietly, sitting down next to him.

"Hey," he replied, looking at her only briefly, the sadness back in his eyes.

She looked at the open album in his lap then and her heart went out to him. A family album...pictures of Charlie stared back at her. A few of Jack and Sara, all three of them together. She laced her hand with his and leaned her head against his shoulder. She pointed to what was obviously a school picture. "How old was he here?"

"Seven. He just lost one of his front teeth, he was so proud." His fingers traced lightly over the picture. 

He hadn't wanted to talk about it...before, maybe he would now. "Do you ever see her?"

"Sara?"

She nodded against his shoulder.

"No, not since the crystal entity. I heard a few years ago that she'd gotten remarried."

She made a low, murmuring sound, not sure what to say. She was relieved though, and knew she had no right for her suddenly possessive feelings. 

He shifted, withdrawing his hand from hers and she sat up as he closed the album, set it aside and looked at her. "You asked about Sara yesterday. Why the sudden interest?" he asked, his words clipped and cool.

"I don't know..." she floundered for a moment, brushing at a non-existent speck on her jeans. Yesterday she had just been making conversation to fill the awkwardness of the moment. Today, she just wanted to be a part of everything he was doing and thinking. "She was a big part of your life—her and Charlie. I guess I just wondered about her is all...whether you think about her."

"Like Pete was a big part of your life?"

She looked at him, astounded by the abrupt change of subject—and the hard look in his eyes.

"Do you still think about him?"

"I...ah, not really," she finally managed to stammer. 

"Love 'em and leave 'em, eh, Carter?"

Her stomach roiled at his use of her last name. She really did not like where this conversation was going—or the tone of his voice, mocking and not very kind. Evidently he had forgotten that she had confessed her love for him. "I don't see what Pete has do with—"

"Maybe it's not Pete," he interrupted, "maybe it's just the whole damn convenience of this for you."

He had her totally confused now. "I don't understand," she said very carefully, trying to keep her anger and fear from showing.

"Come on, Carter, you're the genius here. No nasty, messy 'relationship' to deal with here, once I'm gone. Very convenient."

She'd waited a very long time for him...she'd been waiting for him even when she'd been trying to make it work with Pete. Damn it, she would not let him cheapen and demean what she felt for him. Because still present beneath the pain and bewilderment she felt at his cruel words was the love and determination that had carried her this far with him. "Cut the crap, O'Neill. I don't know what you're trying to do here, but it won't work. I love you. God knows, when I tried to love someone else, it didn't work. Oh, it might have temporarily filled the huge, gaping hole of not having you in my life, but it was only temporary. It was only temporary...." 

The look on his face hadn't changed and she felt her heart sink. "I love you, damn it! And I hate what's happening to you, I hate that..." her voice broke and she took a shuddering breath before she could continue, "...that thing in your brain and I hate that this is all we get." Tears had started rolling down her cheeks and she hated that he had made her cry, but she wouldn't hide it from him.

Something in him seemed to give, because his eyes softened and she was suddenly held tight in his arms. Wrapping her arms around him, she buried her face in his throat. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough in her ear. "Sam...don't cry," he murmured. "Please don't cry. I'm an utter ass-hole and you'll be better off without me."

She sniffed and pressed closer to him, grief filling her. "No, I won't," she managed to murmur.

His arms tightened around her and he gently swayed them, back and forth. "Yes, you will. I have no right to question your relationships. I guess I'm just jealous."

"Don't be," she told him. "It's always been you." She laughed, a sad sound—even to her ears. "God, how cliched is that?" She pulled back then, so she could see his face, his arms holding her loosely. "I know I don't have any right to expect you to believe this, but never doubt my love for you."

"I don't deserve you—and you deserve so much more."

"You're all I want."

"Sam—"

She was getting very tired of having the same argument with him. "Jack," she interrupted, weary resignation in voice now. "Can't you just accept this? Can't you just accept me?" 

He reached out and caressed her cheek. "I love you, Sam." 

The ice that had started to encase her heart melted and tears once more filled her eyes. She never thought she'd hear those words come out of Jack O'Neill's mouth. And while she still despaired at the futility of their situation, she was filled with an unexpected peace. No matter what happened tomorrow, they still had this time when her dreams had come true.

"And you're all I've ever wanted."

"Then why are we having this argument?" she asked, a slight smile in her eyes and voice.

"Because, as we've already established, I'm an ass-hole."

She managed a weak chuckle, sniffing again and wiping at her eyes. Jack stepped away briefly, grabbing something off the chest of drawers and she suddenly had a tissue thrust into her hand. Nodding her thanks, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose, starting to feel a bit more in control. "What now?" she asked.

"Now?" He seemed to consider for a moment and then replied, "We watch a movie." 

He started walking out of the room, so she followed. "You want to watch a movie on your last day?"

"Hey, it's my last day." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam listened closely, there hadn't been a pop for several seconds. Not wanting the popcorn to burn, she shut off the microwave and gingerly lifted the bag of popcorn out. She set it on the counter, letting it cool a bit while she looked for a suitable bowl. Finding one in the first cupboard she opened, she carefully opened the bag and dumped the delicious smelling popcorn into the bowl. Not too bad, she decided smugly, when only a few old maids fell out. She picked up the glass of wine she'd poured while the popcorn was popping, wondering what she should take Jack. Opening the fridge, she realized it wasn't that hard of a choice, pulling a Guinness out. Juggling the popcorn bowl, her wine and the bottle of Guinness, she walked carefully down the stairs to the den.

Jack was fiddling with something at the entertainment center, but as soon as she was in the room, he strode over and took the bowl and the Guinness out of her hands. 

"Thanks," she said, sitting down on the sofa. He flashed her a quick grin, setting the bowl on the coffee table and twisting the cap off the bottle, grabbing the remote from the top of the TV. He plopped down beside her, switching the table lamp to low and grabbing the popcorn bowl, resting it in his lap. 

"What are we watching?" she asked curiously.

"You'll see." He was still grinning and apparently massively pleased with his choice of movie. Nestling against his side, she curled her legs up under her and reached for a handful of popcorn. She hadn't realized that the DVD was already running until Jack turned the sound on and the familiar strains of the opening music of The Wizard of Oz filled the room. His arm went around her and she snuggled closer as Dorothy and Toto ran down that Kansas dirt road into the land of dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She normally didn't get emotional over movies, but this whole weekend was verging on the edge of surreal. So when Dorothy hugged the Scarecrow and told him, "I think I'll miss you most of all", Sam wasn't overly surprised when tears filled her eyes. And while Dorothy would see her scarecrow once again, Sam wasn't so sure about her chances. She was prepared this time though, trying to discreetly wipe at her eyes with the tissue she'd secreted into a pocket. She would have sworn his eyes never wavered from the TV, so she was caught off guard when he rumbled over her head, "Are you crying?"

"Yes," she snapped back rather waspishly.

"Just checking," he replied mildly.

She pulled out from under his arm and looked at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just..."  
Her voice trailed off and his eyes filled with that same resignation she's seen so often on his face since the weekend had started. 

"I know," he murmured. He shut off the DVD and the TV and stood up. "Let's go to bed." He held out his hand she let him pull her up. "I'll lock up," he told her, kissing her briefly before releasing her hand. She nodded and picked up the empty popcorn bowl and wineglass; she headed to the bedroom, detouring briefly to drop the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink.

Once in the bedroom, she turned on the bedside lamp, filling the room with a soft amber glow. And then she dithered for long minutes about what to do. Just get undressed and hop into bed? Put on the T-shirt she'd worn the night before? Keep her clothes on? She wished now that she would have had the foresight to bring one of her nice nighties with her, but Jack had so effectively addled her brain with the whole, unexpected shower sex, she hadn't been able to think of anything but him. And right now she was filled with both an extraordinary longing for him, mixed inextricably with the sick dread of what would happen when the weekend was over and their lives changed forever. 'Their' lives, she thought sadly, like there was such a thing. There was only this weekend....

"Hey."

She jumped; she hadn't even heard him. His arms closed around her from behind, he nuzzled her temple, one large hand finding its way under her sweater, caressing the smooth skin of her abdomen. She leaned back against him, turning her head so he could continue with the soft kisses he was pressing to her neck. 

"I thought you'd be in bed." His voice was muffled and she shivered delicately when he nipped at her earlobe. 

"I wasn't sure...Jack," she groaned helplessly, when the hand under her blouse cupped her breast, his thumb brushing over her cloth-covered nipple. It wasn't fair that he had to only touch her and she was already trembling. His mouth and hand were doing wondrous things to her body, already so sensitive to even his slightest touch. She didn't think she would ever tire of having him touch her, but she wanted the same—to touch him, watch him come apart with her kisses, her hands, her body. She understood his need for control, especially with everything that was so out of his control right now. But she couldn't deny her need to demonstrate for him the depth of her desire...and love. Before he could simultaneously arouse and weaken her resolve, Sam twisted in his arms, moving just out of his embrace.

"What?" 

He had the beginnings of a frown, so when he reached for her again, Sam smiled and took hold of both his hands, pulling him over to the bed. She kissed him, lingering only long enough for him to start demanding more, before drawing back. "Just relax, Jack," she murmured against his lips. "I'll take care of you." His frown faded and she placed a hand on his chest, urging him to sit down on the bed. She was relieved when he did as she asked and she smiled reassuringly at him before letting her lips curve into a smile that was just a bit less reassuring and a great deal hungrier.

Stepping back far enough so he wouldn't be tempted to reach for her, she pulled her top off over her head. Sparing him a quick look—and pleased to see his face was filled with lazy interest—she quickly unfastened her serviceable bra. Letting it drop to the floor with her blouse, she shimmied out of her jeans next; stepping out of them, she dropped to her knees in front of him. He spread his knees and she moved to kneel between them, her hands immediately going to the buttons of his shirt. He didn't make her job easy, his hands reaching for and fondling her breasts, but she finally managed to get her suddenly trembling fingers to work and got his shirt and T-shirt off.

"You could be a bit more cooperative, you know," she complained a bit breathlessly.

He chuckled and let his hands drift down her body before resting them at his sides. "Better?" he asked.

She missed his touch, her nipples already tight and achy and her panties damp, but it did make it easier. "Yes," she growled, her hands going for his belt. "Much easier." Deftly unbuckling his belt, she unbuttoned and unzipped, working her hand into the open fly and lightly massaging in his semi-erect penis. "What about you?" she purred. She squeezed a bit harder, "Better?"

He groaned and leaned back on the bed, propped on up on his elbows. "God...yes," he gasped, moving his hips into her caress.

She smiled, pleased with his response. She moved her hand lower, finding and cupping his balls, fondling them gently. 

He moaned appreciatively; his eyes flying open when she withdrew her hand. "What? ...Oh," he murmured in understanding when she grabbed the waistband of his trousers. She tugged and he lifted his hips and she pulled them—and his boxers—off. His erection sprang free and she eyed it longingly. Plenty of time for that, she reminded herself, there were other parts of him she wanted to touch...to taste, first.

Crawling up onto the bed, she scooted with him until they were in the center of the big bed. She didn't protest when his hands skimmed her panties off, but when he would have continued to caress her, she knelt, straddling hips and threading her fingers through his. Leaning over him, she forced his hands back onto the mattress next to his head. He squirmed a bit, as if getting comfortable, and she sank down against him, lowering her mouth to his.

As much as she wanted to devour him and immerse herself headlong into passion, she was vividly aware that this might be her last opportunity to be with him. That sad fact gave her the patience and resolve to go slowly and worship what was hers for this all too brief time. She delicately brushed her lips against his, closing her eyes and concentrating on the fantastic feel of his lips, his mouth, his chest moving against her as he breathed, his fingers tightening around hers when her tongue lightly traced his lips. His mouth opened and she settled into kissing him, her tongue gliding easily into his mouth. Probing along his hard teeth, his smooth gums, finally stroking his tongue, gently teasing and tasting the potent elixir that was his kisses. 

She felt his body tense and his arms made a tentative movement, but she wasn't ready to release him yet. Easing back on the kiss, she tugged gently on his lower lip and once more whispered, "Just relax. I'll take care of you." He only managed a low moan before she felt his tense muscles start to relax. When he was once more resting quietly beneath her, she resumed her slow seduction, placing feather light kisses along his jaw. She rubbed her cheek against his, the brush of his slight stubble against her softer skin sending tingles through her. Loosening her grip on his hands, she caressed his arms, running her fingers slowly along his arms. She continued to leave a trail of kisses down his throat, shifting slightly so she could caress the firm muscles of his chest. Drawing her tongue along his collarbone, she nipped lightly at his shoulder. He moaned, his breathing becoming more labored and she felt his muscles ripple beneath her when he raised his arms and began stroking her back.

She didn't really mind, but she had other things in mind than letting him distract her with his touch. She moved further down his thighs, so she could continue her caresses. His burgeoning erection was pressing insistently against her belly, but she ignored it and the growing ache between her legs, to concentrate on covering every inch of his chest with her soft kisses. Mmm...and it was nice, she decided hazily, nuzzling through the light covering of hair and rubbing her cheek against his chest. Her hands traced random patterns along his shoulders and chest, wherever she could reach, wherever she wasn't kissing. 

He was shifting restlessly beneath her when she was finally satisfied with her exploration of his chest and belly, his muscles rippling and quivering beneath her loving caresses. Sam gracefully sat up then, kneeling over him and still straddling his thighs. Jack's hands came to rest on her thighs and she considered him carefully. His eyes were heavy lidded and his deep brown eyes almost black with passion, a flush high on his cheekbones, his short hair somehow mussed from her fingers. Sam could already see a few tiny red marks where she'd been a bit too enthusiastic with her love bites, but she didn't care, she had the feeling she'd have a few of her own before they were finished.

Her eyes traveled down the rest of his lean body, for the first time really appreciating the latent strength and power that was normally hidden from her view. She couldn't resist touching him again and trailed her fingers carefully across his belly, scratching lightly with her nails, her fingers eventually combing through the wiry curls at his groin. His penis jerked, straining towards her and she finally gave him what they both wanted. Wrapping the fingers of one hand around his penis, she squeezed gently and a shudder ran through his entire body with that first touch. He was full and vibrant beneath her hand; she could feel the life pulsing in him...and it was all for her. 

Sam glanced at his face; his eyes were mere slits as he watched her, his features hard with desire and anticipation. Keeping her eyes locked with his, she slowly lowered her head, rubbing her cheek against his hot flesh before leisurely brushing her lips from base to tip. "Sam," he moaned and her lips curved in a smile filled with fierce satisfaction before she took him into her mouth. She took her time, kissing and sucking, slowly building the tension until his hips were moving in helpless response to her insistent caress. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one large hand clenching in the bed sheets. The other hovered uncertainly around her head before coming to rest lightly on her hair. 

Lost in pleasure and the power of pleasing her lover, Sam gasped in surprise when strong hands suddenly grabbed her under her arms and Jack pulled her up his body and he rolled them, pinning her beneath him. Rearranging her limbs so that his hips nestled between her spread legs, she looped her arms around his neck when he loomed over her. His brown eyes glittered with a dark desire that should have frightened her but didn't.

"You didn't like that?" she teased.

"Too much," he growled, grinding his hips against her.

"Then why did you stop me?" she gasped, raising her head and nipping at his chin.

"Because I want more," he murmured roughly, his hard lips capturing hers in a searing kiss.

Sam surrendered to his driving need, eagerly following his lead, moaning in anticipation as strong fingers moved in a sure caress, urging her knees up higher around him. Long fingers probing through her damp curls, her hips moving helplessly into his touch until she sighed in relief when the broad head of his penis finally broached her tender opening. And then he stopped. 

"Jack," she whimpered, tightening her legs and arms around him.

"Sam," he groaned, "look at me."

She hadn't even realized her eyes were closed until they flew open at his command, his face hovering only inches above hers. His eyes burned into her very soul, the pain and resignation she'd seen all weekend replaced with such a deep love and possessiveness that Sam knew she would never be the same—that she would always be his.

"Yes," she murmured, placing a tender hand on his cheek, affirming all that he would never put into words. Relief flickered briefly in his eyes before they once more filled with burning desire. 

Oh god...she felt him start to move, easing his way into her body. She didn't know how it could be possible, but what was happening between them now was even more intimate than anything that had happened before. The intensity of emotions she could feel emanating from him filled her with an unexpected peace. She didn't know how, given everything that was standing in their way, but she knew all would be well. Somehow, in some way.

"I love you," she whispered, angling her pelvis and urging him even deeper.

"I know," he rumbled, "don't ever stop."

"Forever," she affirmed.

"Forever," he groaned. He thrust deep then and Sam moaned low in her throat, finally closing her eyes when he buried his face in her neck. She held him as he started moving, slowly at first but soon with increasing power, thrusting so deep that she could feel him pressing against her womb. 

It was wondrous and profound, and she was swept up in the power of their shared love, losing herself in her lover. The pleasure growing between them continued to escalate. Sam could already feel the first tendrils of release spreading through her. "Jack," she gasped, gripping his hips with frantic hands and tugging him closer before trying to work her right hand between their joined bodies. 

She felt him shift, his hand colliding with hers and he brushed her hand aside. "I'll take care of you, baby," he growled in her ear. Oh god...and he did, his fingers moving with unerring accuracy while he took care of her very well indeed. The relentless friction as he continued to move within her combined with his deft touch sent her spinning into ecstasy. Sam sobbed his name, clutching desperately to him as rapture spiraled endlessly through her, her entire body contracting around him in spasms of endless delight. 

She dimly realized he had stopped moving, embedded deep inside her, while she came apart in his arms. When her trembling had slowed down to only sporadic shudders, he started moving again. Summoning reserves she didn't know she had, Sam wrapped her legs around his waist and moved with him, taking everything he had to give as he pounded into her. Soft waves of pleasure flowed through her when he thrust deep, his hips grinding her into the mattress, his large frame shuddering violently against her while his orgasm took him. She held him for an eternity, stroking the strong muscles of his back, murmuring of her love, low in his ear, as he filled her with his seed. The perfection of the moment overwhelmed her and her eyes filled with tears. Tears of joy or tears of pain, she couldn't distinguish between them anymore—and it really didn't matter—she was home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_He was burning up and he was freezing cold. Which didn't make any sense, they'd left Antarctica...hadn't they? Jack looked around the vaguely familiar research lab; machinery hummed and monitors flashed bright pictures that transformed into gate symbols. The flashing glyphs caught his eye. There was some kind of subtle pattern and he quickly identified them: Leo Minor, Eridanus, Centaurus, Virgo, Lynx, Canis Minor and Earth. But the longer he looked at them, the more confusing it became, as they started changing order and flashing faster and faster until he got dizzy looking at them._

_"Comitare."_

_He turned. Aiyanna stood before him, dressed in a flowing white robe. Her red hair framed her pale face, turning her blue eyes almost luminescent in the fluorescent light of the lab._

_"Comitare." She beckoned for him to follow and turned, walking out of the lab._

_"Wait!" Jack exclaimed and started after her._

_"Jack."_

_He stopped. It was Sam, her voice calling to him at his deepest level, but his eyes followed Aiyanna._

_"Don’t leave me."_

_He looked over his shoulder at Sam. She was dressed for the harsh conditions of the Antarctic base, her face pale and her eyes pleading with him, a hand held out in supplication. He heard the pain and despair in her voice...and the love. He turned and took a step towards her._

_"Tui fatum." Aiyanna's voice was soft, yet compelling._

_He wanted to stay with Sam, but he still found himself responding to Aiyanna. Unable to speak, he begged with his eyes for Sam to understand and then he turned his back on her and walked out the door to Aiyanna._

_"I love you...."_

_Sam's words tore at his heart, but he followed Aiyanna anyway, deeper and deeper into the ice and snow._

_"I love you...."_

"I love you."

Jack stirred, still in that state halfway between sleep and awareness, the remnants of his dream lingering in his subconscious. He felt soft lips press a tender kiss to his cheek, a gentle hand caress his hair, his face...and then nothing but the cool air of the early morning. He didn’t say anything, he didn't do anything. He could hear the soft sounds of movement and then the door opening and closing, the quiet sounds foreboding and ominous in the darkness of his mind. If he listened hard enough, he could just hear the sounds of her car as she started it, put it in gear and drove away. 

He rolled to his back and opened his eyes, staring in the dim light at the ceiling. He understood why she'd left in the early hours of dawn, before the cold light of day could intrude on what they'd shared. Whatever they'd had to say to each other had been said last night. The intensity and power of what had transpired between them filled him with awe. To love, and be loved, with a love like he shared with Sam was something he had never expected to have in his life. And while he could curse and beat his fists at a world that had offered him a brief taste of heaven on earth, he wouldn't. For whatever happened to him now was his destiny...and he could only pray that Sam would be there with him.

THE END


End file.
